


Foolish Man

by garbagefluff



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Longing, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagefluff/pseuds/garbagefluff
Summary: Fenris' attempts at avoiding Hawke are thwarted after a night at the Hanged Man.





	

Fenris wished with every fiber of his being that Hawke would just move on. Forget what they had. Hate him.

But Hawke was relentless.

Out on jobs, Hawke would attempt to pull him aside. Tried to talk to him privately. But Fenris never gave him the chance. He had become greatly skilled at causing distractions. It was fairly simple with this merry band of misfits. He knew just the right subject to broach to begin a never ending dialog. Start gambling with Varric. Ask Isabela to guess the color of his small-clothes. Make some mention of the Chantry to Sebastian. Ask Aveline of her guardsmen. Hell, sometimes, he would even start an argument with Anders just to avoid Hawke.

And Hawke knew it.

So he had the others check up on him. Sebastian would bring him food. Isabela would stop by, help herself to his wine, and ramble at him for hours. Varric would forcibly drag him down to the hanged man.

Things they had always done, sure, but not this often. Not with this much vigor. He knew Hawke had a hand in it; wanted to make sure he was okay. _Ha!_ Fenris had destroyed him. Shattered his heart. And Hawke wanted to make sure _he_ was okay. Foolish man.

 

=====

 

Tonight was their weekly game of wicked grace. Fenris had hoped to skip the event and spend the evening alone, drowning in a bottle of wine, but as expected Isabela would not allow it. She had stopped by on her way back to Lowtown. “Oh, nonsense! I’ll buy you all the drinks you need at The Hanged Man! Besides! It’ll be much easier to win all your coin if you’re drunk.”

“You mean it will be easier to cheat if I’m drunk,” Fenris huffed. And with that she grabbed his wrist and pulled him out into the street.

When they arrived, the rest of the gang was already seated around their usual table. Isabela plopped down next to Merrill, leaving the only open seat next to Hawke. Typical.

Hawke handed him a tankard as he sat down, which he took gratefully and downed in one go. As he placed the mug back down on the grimy table, he noticed Hawke eyeing the red ribbon tied around his arm.

Oh, that.

“Fenris…” Hawke began.

Fenris pretended not to hear him. He quickly reached across the table and tapped the space in front of Varric. “Deal me in!" Fenris all but shouted. “I’ve apparently quite a bit of coin to lose to Isabela tonight and I had better get started.”

The table laughed. “That’s the spirit, Broody!” Varric quipped as he started dealing out cards. Hawke slumped back over, resting his disappointed face on his hand, continuing to watch Fenris between sips of ale.

Throughout the night, Hawke's eyes frequently darted back to the favor Fenris had refused to remove.

Fenris knew it was a bad idea to keep it. That he would only send the wrong message to Hawke. But he could not bare to part with it. He knew it was selfish, but it gave him some small comfort. A reminder that Hawke had once chosen him. A memento of the one time he had ever truly been happy.

He did love Hawke. He wanted very much to tell him so. He wanted Hawke to know that he would have done anything for him. That all he wanted was for Hawke to be as happy as he had been in that one blissful moment. But Fenris knew that his happiness could not come from him. Hawke deserved better. Needed better. And so he would do everything in his power to force Hawke to move on. But removing that favor... That just was not within his power. Not yet.

As the night drew to a close, the group slowly got up to depart for their various dwellings. Isabela had made good on her promise and had supplied Fenris with perhaps a little too much to drink. As he got to his feet, he felt himself wobble. Hawke chuckled at the sight, but allowed him to take a couple stumbling steps before intervening. He caught Fenris before he fell over and proceeded to wrap an arm around his waist. “Here, let me walk you home.” He smiled down at the elf.

“I am fine, Hawke,” Fenris said callously as he threw Hawke’s arm back at him, before losing his balance and grabbing back onto it for stability.

Hawke guffawed and simply said, “Of course you are,” as he put his arm back around Fenris.

‘Damn you, Isabela,’ Fenris thought as the two made their way through Lowtown. Maybe it was the ale, but Fenris found he thoroughly enjoyed having Hawke’s warmth pressed against him. And truthfully, he would not have gotten home without the assistance. “Mm, you’re quite warm,” he slurred. And before he could think better of it and stop himself, he cuddled a little closer into Hawke.

Hawke smiled. “Well, that’s what happens when you’re this muscular and charming, Fen. You just give off heat. It’s a talent really.”

Fen. Hawke had whispered the name _that_ night. After. His lids flickered and he pressed his face into the crook of Fenris’ neck.  With their limbs tangled together, that had been the last thing to pass through his lips as sleep took him. 

Fenris felt his own eyes fighting to stay open and he found himself drifting back into that moment.

Hawke gently shook him awake. Fenris was in his arms. He jolted up and as quickly as he could, pulled himself awkwardly away, almost losing his balance again as Hawke set him down. “You, uh, fell asleep. Which in all honesty, was pretty impressive seeing as you were standing at the time.” Hawke laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head, clearly taken aback by Fenris’ reaction.

“I am sorry,” Fenris managed to stutter. “I did not-”

“It’s fine Fenris. You’re not difficult to carry. I don’t mind. Truly.”

“I… uh… yes. Thank you.” Fenris looked away, embarrassment almost turning his ears red.

“Fenris, I have to ask,” Hawke started.

“Please, Hawke. Don’t. I can’t. I can’t do this now. I’m drunk. And… I just can’t.” Fenris couldn’t bring himself to look at Hawke.

“I just want to know if you’re alright, Fenris.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Fenris could see Hawke staring at the favor again.

Fenris wanted to say no. Wanted to tell him that he missed his touch. Ached for it. That his every waking thought was of him. But he wasn’t ready to be what Hawke needed him to be. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

“I… will be. Goodnight Hawke.” And with that Fenris left the only thing he wanted in this world, confused and alone on his doorstep.

 

The next morning, far too early, Fenris was awoken by knocking at the door.

It was Sebastian. With a basket of food.

But Fenris knew it was from Hawke.

Foolish man.


End file.
